Daybreak Again

Ali came through the kitchen where Dillon was putting off his confrontation with her by heating up some leftover pecan pie in the microwave. “Hey, Alicat,” he greeted her. “Sit down and have a piece of pie with me.” “No thanks, Dad. I have to go see if Mercymee has had her kittens yet. She’s hiding out in the barn. In the hay.” “That can wait for a minute. I need to talk to you.” Impatient but curious, she slumped down on one of the straight-backed chairs. Finally, with pie and a glass of milk in front of him, he sat down across from her, cleared his throat, and thought about putting it off again. Then, knowing he couldn’t avoid it any longer, ”Alexandra, there’s something I want to . . . I have to tell you.” Ali saw the look of desperation on his face and got scared. “What? What? Is it Leigh? Has something happened to Leigh?” Dillon quickly assured her that nothing was wrong with Leigh. And when she perused other possibilities, he guaranteed her that Gabby and Gabby’s girls were also all safe and accounted for. “Well, get that look off your face then. You’re scaring me. If Leigh and Gabby and the shrimps are all okay, there isn’t anything that bad that can be wrong.” “You’re right. It’s nothing that bad. But . . . He fumbled and then decided to just get it over with. “Okay. Here it is. You know I’ve always told you that someday I’d tell you about your mother?” A look of confusion washed over her face. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows raised. “Well. It’s time you knew.” Ali stared at him. “She’s dead, right? She died in Colorado and you had to go up there and get me. And you brought me here to the ranch. You brought me home.” Dillon frowned. “I don’t think I ever came right out and told you she was . . . dead.” Ali’s frown matched her father’s. “Yeah, Dad. I think there was a time . . . a long time ago. . . you told me that my mother had died.” “No.” Patiently. “No. I think you just assumed that was the case.” Ali gave a nervous little laugh. “Wait. Wait. What you’re saying now . . . Are you telling me that my mother is alive?” There was a short pause in which their eyes met and held. His voice was low but steady. “Yes, Ali. That’s what I’m telling you now.” “My mother isn’t dead? She’s alive?” He nodded, watching her closely. “Then . . . where is she? Where has she been? Where is she right now?” “I know you’ve got a lot of questions, Ali. And I’ll answer them as truthfully as I can.” “Then answer me that one. Where is she?” “She lives in Hollywood.” She had to digest that for a second or two. And then, “Hollywood, California?” “Yes.” The tears were almost there, almost where he could see them. “Okay. Then what happened? Why didn’t she . . . ? Why . . . ?” “It’s kind of complicated, baby.” “Daddy? You promised you’d tell me the truth. Why didn’t you tell me about her before now? Why didn’t she want me?” She narrowed her eyes and said flatly, “She didn’t want me, did she?” Dillon took a deep breath and let it out noisily. “Your mother is a movie star, Ali. A very famous movie star.” Her eyes widened. “Who? Who is she?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. He hesitated. Closing his eyes, his jaw tightening, he finally spoke the name. “Jayden Harte.” She jerked back and her eyes became huge. “What? The Jayden Harte?” She laughed disbelievingly. “You’re kidding!” She sobered and looked at him accusingly. “You’re lying!” “It’s the truth, Ali. Jayden Harte is your mother.” “Jayden Harte is my mother.” Dillon could almost see the process her brain was going through, trying to assimilate what she’d just heard. Still not quite believing it. Then, piercing her father with a steady, cold look, “So. Why are you telling me now? Why now?” “Because . . . because she wants to meet you. She wants to know you.” Accusingly, “How do you know that?” Dillon sighed patiently, his stomach churning inside. “She wrote me a letter. She wants me to phone her and tell her if . . . if you’d like to go spend some time in California with her.” The anguish she was feeling was apparent in her voice. “Why, Daddy? Why didn’t you tell me before? Why did you keep us apart until now?” “Honey, it wasn’t like that. You don’t understand.” Suddenly she glared at him and began to cry softly. “I do understand. You didn’t want me to have a mother. You wanted me all to yourself.” “Oh, come on, Ali. That’s not true.” “True? What do I know is true or isn’t true? You’ve lied to me all these years.” She gulped and stood up, her thin body ramrod straight, her head held high. “I want to go see my mother.” His jaw tightened. He tried not to show his disappointment in her decision. “That can be arranged.” There was silence between them and then she said coldly, in a low voice. “You should have told me.” “You’re right. I should have told you. I just always considered you my daughter, my girl. And . . . ”He was struggling with the right words to say. “Ali, you know how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. Whatever I did or didn’t do was because I loved you. Whatever happens now, don’t ever forget that.” Her voice, her eyes were hard. “No excuses, Daddy” “You’re right. I was wrong.” “You don’t lie to someone you love, Dad. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? You don’t ever lie. Especially to someone you love.”